I whimper, a soft, needy sound that betrays exactly how badly I want more. My stomach twists, and my chest lifts with shuddering breaths, a heady, almost dizzying mix of want and anticipation.
Jude leans back slightly, fingers sliding through my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear. “We need to give you space… not push you past where you’ve decided to go.”
I nod, but the acknowledgment is shaky. My body hums with residual need, every brush of their skin over mine leaving trails of fire.
Their lips linger near mine before finally pulling back—a kiss along my temple, a soft press to my cheek. The subtle contact leaves me trembling, legs weak, pulse still racing.
I breathe in the scent of them, feel the residual warmth of their hands against my bare skin, and know the ache they’ve stirred isn’t fading any time soon.
When they finally guide me to my car, Ryker’s hand brushes mine, sending heat up my arm. Jude stays close, smirking just enough to make me bite my lip.
My body still thrums with the memory of their touch, lingering hunger stretching every nerve, leaving me dizzy, flushed, and euphoric all at once.
I slide into the driver’s seat, my heart racing, hands shaking slightly on the wheel.
“Good night, guys!” I can barely recognize my own voice.
“Night, baby,” Ryker says. Then he leans in to press his lips to mine. He pulls away and winks at me.
“Good night, Norah,” Jude says, taking his place. His kiss is a little rougher. He pulls back just enough to whisper against my lips, “Be safe… and tell us when you get home.”
Ryker presses a last feather-light kiss to my jaw, near the hollow of my neck, and then they step back, letting me catch my breath. My chest rises and falls unevenly, hair messy from their fingers, lips tingling.
I start my car, the quiet hum making me feel almost normal—but the fire in my veins hasn’t dulled. The euphoria buzzes through me as I drive, making my fingers tingle and my chest ache as I process the heat and tension of what just happened.
When I pull into my driveway, my body’s still tight with need. My pulse is wild, my skin flushed as I climb out and start unloading my bag. I barely notice the slight sway in my legs, the tremor in my hands.
Then I see him. Dorian. Sitting on the steps to my door, looking ragged, but there’s something about the way he’s watching me that makes my stomach twist. Every nerve in my body clenches.
“Where were you?” he asks, voice flat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Dorian
The concrete iscold through my jeans. The porch light is too bright. Everything feels tilted, like the world refuses to line up straight.
My head is buzzing. My chest hurts in a way alcohol doesn’t fix, no matter how hard I try.
Her scent hits me even from here. Warm. Sweet. Ripe in a way that makes my stomach clench, and my throat burn. It’s not just her. It’s them.
Jude and Ryker are all over her, woven into her skin, pressed into her hair, tucked behind her ears. I can smell the arousal riding underneath it, rich and unmistakable.
It makes my vision blur harder than the whiskey does.
“Dorian?” she says. Careful. Concerned. Like she’s approaching a wounded animal.
I try to smile. It comes out crooked. “Hey,” I say, and it slurs. I hear it.
So does she.
She steps closer, eyes scanning my face, my posture, the way I’m braced on my hands like I might tip over. “Are you drunk?”
I huff a weak laugh. “No. I’m… enthusiastically medicated.”
Her mouth presses into a thin line. She crouches in front of me, close enough that her scent wraps around my head like a vise. “Dorian.”
I reach out without thinking, my fingers brushing her wrist. She’s warm. Real. My hand shakes. “You came home.”
